The grandfather clock that sits atop
my fireplace—dare I search for wrinkles?
My mother’s laugh lines
My father’s under-eyes
They’ve always decorated my face but now
more seemingly pronounced
Childhood memories barely remembered—by choice?
Or due to the strangeness of time
and how quickly it goes by yet
seems to stand still so painfully slow
Who has a moment to, oh, nevermind
Was going to ask a question but I haven’t enough
time
Here I go again
coming up with excuses to avoid the passage of the very thing that is both my enemy and my teammate
Claiming to be on my side
Wanting me to win
Running out of itself
just to see me live.